Letting Go
by bohogirl
Summary: Joanne returns to Alphabet City just as Mark loses another friend.


**Title: Letting Go  
Author: Jen  
Feedback: Adored and loved and cherished  
Pairing: None, Mark/Joanne friends, Benny/Alison, I gave Joanne a girlfriend but she doesn't speak, Collins  
Word Count: 2549  
Rating: PG-13  
Genre: Angst  
Summary: Joanne returns to the Alphabet City just as Mark loses another friend  
Notes:  
Special Thanks:  
Spoilers: Mentions of how 2 characters die  
Warnings: Character death  
Disclaimer: Rent isn't mine! Stop asking!**

Mark looked up from his book when the bell over the front door to the small cafe jingled. "Joanne," he called as he marked his spot with a piece of paper. "Good to see you." He stood up and kissed Joanne's cheek.

"You too, Mark. Been too long."

Mark nodded as he sat back down.

Joanne nervously played with the salt shaker on the table top. "So?"

Mark shook his head. "He's almost gone," he said in a voice barely above a whisper. "You came back at the right time." He looked up, his eyes locking with Joanne's.

"I'm sorry, Mark. I really am. I never should've left."

"You have the right to a life, Jo. No one expected you to stay."

"So do you, Mark." She reached over and grasped his hand. "I should never have left all this on you. I just...I couldn't handle it. I...I just keep remembering the last time we actually sat down and talked while in the same room. Do you?"

Mark simply nodded, remembering the last time he and Joanne had been seated in the same room. It had been three years prior at the double funeral for Mimi and Roger. After, when they had returned to the loft, the pair watched as Collins ranted bitterly about how his Angel had suffered so much as he died, how soon he would meet the same fate, and how easily Roger and Mimi got off, their lives cut short by a car accident instead of the disease flowing through both their veins. Mark had understood Collins' bitterness, knowing deep down the man didn't mean any of it and that it was born out of grief. Collins, always the strongest both physically and mentally of everyone, knew he would be the next to go.

Several weeks after they buried Mimi and Roger, Joanne received an offer at a high profile law firm in Los Angeles. With only a few days to put her life together, she barely had time to call Mark and Collins, who were now sharing the loft together, to let them know she was leaving. Collins congratulated her, happy to know one of their group was making a name for themselves. Mark, on the other hand, couldn't find it in his heart to be happy for her. Angel, Roger, and Mimi were gone, never to come back, Maureen had flown off to parts unknown years before, and he had a feeling Collins was slowly starting to lose his battle. Joanne would soon be all that Mark had left and she was leaving.

The pair barely spoke after she moved, the time difference and their schedules preventing regular phone conversations. Their only communication were sparse letters sent whenever something major happened. Mark finishing a new film. Joanne landing a big case that put her well on her way to a partnership. Collins falling ill. Mark earning an award for a film about Benny and his struggle to help the people of the East Village retain their homes. Joanne becoming a celebrity out in L.A.. Collins' health rapidly decreasing. Mark meeting someone. Joanne meeting someone. Collins landing in the hospital.

It was Mark's last letter, telling Joanne they were close to losing Collins that finally got her back to the frigid city of New York. Now she sat across from the tired filmmaker, seeing the evidence of long nights by his friend's bed in his eyes and in the lines on his face.

"Who's sitting with him now?"

"Benny. Not that Collins is even aware of what's going on around him. Every person he sees he calls Angel. Yesterday he called Henry, his pale, overweight, 6 foot seven inch nurse Angel and asked him to put on that sexy Santa dress. I swear, if he wasn't dying already, Henry would've killed

him." Mark smiled in spite of himself. "He's not good, Joanne."

"Can you take me to see him?"

"I can. But he probably won't know who you are. Don't take it personally. Between being sick and not being able to fight back like he used to and the drugs, I'm surprised he's even awake half the time."

Joanne looked down at the table, swallowing back a sob. "I wish I'd been here," she whispered, quickly wiping her eyes.

Mark went to her side and handed her a napkin. "Come with me to see him. And forget about what has happened. You're here now." He helped her to her feet, grabbed his book, and quietly led her out of the cafe.

"You're a sweetheart, Mark, you know? How's that someone you met last year?"

"Valerie?" Mark chuckled softly. "We broke up when Collins got really sick a few months ago. She didn't want to take care of him or help take care of him or deal with him or..." He shook his head. Anyway, she took her stuff and moved out."

"I'm sorry, Mark." Joanne gave his hand a squeeze. "Lauren wanted to come with me but she had to work. She might try and fly up for...for the funeral."

"Sounds like a good find. I'm happy for you."

"She's wonderful. I don't know what I'd do without her."

They walked quietly down the street for a bit, the apprehension growing as they got closer to the hospital, both worried they would be too late and Collins would be gone.

"Did you ever manage to get a hold of Maureen?" Joanne asked, just a few blocks from the hospital.

"No. I gave up over a year ago. Wherever she went, she doesn't want to be found."

"What happened to us, Mark? We all used to be so close?"

Mark stopped walking and looked Joanne right in the eye. "Angel died, Joanne. No matter how much we might want to believe we put things back together after he...she was gone, we couldn't. It's hard to hold a building up when the foundation is gone. Eventually it collapses." He looked away as the tears threatened to escape. "But you know, I wouldn't change anything that happened. I know it sounds weird, to want to go back and make it so Angel didn't get sick, Mimi and Roger didn't die, but who knows where we'd be? You found Lauren. Collins and I got Benny back in our lives. I don't know how to explain it, Joanne. I do know we can try and rebuild. You, me, Benny. It won't be like it was, but it'll be something worth living for."

"When did you become so...philosophical?"

Mark chuckled as they began walking again. "Hanging around with Collins, I suppose. He's amazing, Collins. He's crazy and out there and...and simple at the same time. The fact that he hung on for this long when he could've simply just let go and be with Angel. He said he didn't want to leave me alone, even if Benny was there."

"He loves you, Mark. Maybe not like he loved Angel, well, I don't think he could ever love anyone like Angel, but he loves you like a brother."

"He is like my brother, Jo. We've been friends for so long, so close, I honestly don't know what I'm going to do when he's gone but he made it. Without Angel. I'll figure it out somehow."

"You do have me and Benny." Joanne linked her arm with Mark's as they headed into the hospital and up to Collins room.

"Just...be prepared for anything, ok? He doesn't look anything like the Collins you remember."

Joanne nodded, remembering what it was like to step into Angel's hospital room and see a pale, skinny, weak young man instead of the bright, vibrant, sexy young...woman she was used to.

Mark led her to Collins room and slowly opened the door. Collins lay in bed, asleep, Benny sitting beside him reading a magazine. "Hey, Ben. Look what I found."

Benny looked up and smiled. "Hey." He put the magazine down and stood up. "He actually woke up a few hours ago. Was pretty lucid. He...he asked for you."

Mark raised an eyebrow. "By name?"

"Yeah, it was weird hearing another name other then Angel but he didn't say why. Just kept whispering Mark over and over. Well, um, since you're here, I'm...I should call Alison."

"Go. We'll sit with him. Thanks, Benny."

Benny gave Mark a quick hug, and Joanne a quick kiss before heading out into the hallway.

Joanne stepped closer to Collins' side, struggling not to cry at the sight of Collins lying in bed, tubes coming from his body, his skin pasty and pale. She watched as Mark took his place in the chair by the bed, a position she was sure he'd been in so many times these past few weeks that he could find his way around blind. "He looks so...small."

Collins stirred slightly, making both of them jump.

"Collins?" Mark whispered.

"Mark, there you are," Collins said, his voice raspy. "I was...I was just asking about you."

"I heard. What do you want?"

"Is that Joanne I heard?" Collins asked, blinking a few times to clear his vision before looking around the room, his eyes finally focusing on Joanne.

"Yeah, Collins. I'm here." Joanne went to his other side and took his hand.

"Good...good to see you. Mark...Markie you...you'll be ok, won't you? When...when I'm gone?"

"Collins," Mark whispered, his voice cracking. "I'll...I'll be ok eventually."

Collins murmured in response, his eyes adopting a slight glazed over look. "Hurts," he whispered. "Angel..." His eyes rolled back into his head slightly before he fell back asleep, his breathing even and shallow.

Mark dabbed his forehead with a damp cloth. "I wish he would just let go."

Joanne watched the scene and Mark now as he tended to Collins. "Mark, maybe you should let him go. Just back away and let nature, God do what they will."

Mark squeezed the cloth in his hand, looking from Collins to Joanne, then back again. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, let him go." She pulled the cloth from his hand. "Tell him you'll be fine, that you don't want to see him in pain anymore. Tell him to go to Angel."

A tear slid down Mark's cheek which he quickly wiped away. He looked down at Collins again before taking the cold, clammy hand in his. "Collins...Tom, listen to me. I hate seeing you like this. Please, let go. Go be with Angel. He's..she's waiting for you." He wiped away the tears falling softly down his cheeks in vain. "I'll be fine, I promise. Please..."

Joanne rested her hand on his shoulder. "Mark...let's go outside for a bit."

Mark gave Collins hand a squeeze, pressed a soft kiss to the sleeping man's forehead, and slowly stepped out of the room. He leaned against the wall and slowly slid to the floor, burying his face in his hands. "I hate this. I hate seeing them die. I hate losing my family."

"I know. No one could handle it and no one expects you to. Collins, he...he just wants to know you won't do something stupid. He wants to know you'll keep living and filming." Joanne wrapped her arms around Mark, hugging him tightly. "He wants you to keep being Mark."

Mark sobbed quietly into Joanne's shoulder, his glasses falling to the floor.

Benny watched awkwardly, unsure of what to do, before quietly picking up Mark's glasses, folding them shut and sitting beside him on the floor.

Inside the hospital room, the steady beep of the heart monitor slowed, sending the three friends and several nurses into the room. Mark sat on one side of the bed, his eyes blood shot, and his cheek red. Benny went to the other side, watching anxiously as the medical staff decided what to do.

One doctor approached Mark, showing him a do not resuscitate order Collins had signed just a week prior. "He named you in his living will. It's your call."

Mark looked over at Benny. Without words, the two came to their decision. Mark looked back at Joanne who simply nodded before turning his eyes to Collins. "Let him go," he whispered. "He shouldn't suffer anymore."

The doctor nodded, told the nurses to make Collins comfortable before leaving the four friends alone.

Benny was the first to say good bye. Neither Mark nor Joanne heard what he whispered into Collins' ear but they didn't miss the small smile that somehow worked its way across Collins' face. Joanne told him to say hello to Angel before kissing his cheek, and dragging Benny outside, giving Mark and Collins a few last moments alone.

"You know, I never...I didn't see it ending like this. Back when we first met. I always figured we'd go out in a blaze of glory, you famous for some anarchist stunt or another and me for filming. Maybe Roger for the background music." He looked down at the floor. "You're like my brother, Collins. I know it seemed like Roger and I were a bit closer but...but I always felt like I could go to you. For anything. I'll be looking out for myself now." He stood up and leaned in, kissing Collins' forehead one last time, trying not to notice how cool is was now compared to before. "Say hello to Angel for me. Roger and Mimi too. I...I love you, man."

Mark lowered his head and sank back into the chair as he watched the rise and fall of Collins' chest slow down before finally it stopped and the beep of the heart monitor progressed into a low, long buzz. The tears began to fall again but Mark didn't try to stop them. Collins would be with Angel now. He would happy. Finally.

"Close on Collins' headstone, seated next to Angel's. Just feet away, Mimi and Roger's, homages to dearly departed friends and family. Two lost to an accident, two to AIDS, all missed, all loved." Mark swept his camera through the graveyard, zooming in on each headstone before turning his camera to Benny, Alison, Joanne, and her girlfriend, Lauren who had just flown in from LA standing a few feet away. "Close on the mourners, friends, family." He pulled the camera away and turned it off. "I'll be right there," he called.

He focused the camera first on Roger and Mimi's headstones. "Two lovers, together now without worry, Roger writing his songs and Mimi dancing in the moonlight." He turned it back to Collins and Angel. "The tragic love story, pulled apart far too soon. Buried together in this life thanks to Benny. Living together wherever they are now. Angel singing, dancing, drumming, Collins clapping, smiling, laughing, and loving every minute of it." With a final zoom of the camera, Mark focused in on Collins name. "More then a teacher, a friend. A dear brother."

Mark put the camera down just as Joanne appeared at his side, her hand resting on his arm. She slowly led him away from the cemetery and back towards the loft where he would cut together another film, celebrating the life, the love, and the losses of a 'family' living in the East Village.


End file.
